


Crooked Smiles Fade

by bookishnerdhero



Category: Champions (Comics), Ms. Marvel (Comics), Nova (Comics)
Genre: Awkward Crush, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Post Weirdworld Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 15:55:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19429246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookishnerdhero/pseuds/bookishnerdhero
Summary: After losing his Nova helmet and the events that happened in the Weirdworld with the Champions, Sam Alexander reflects on who he is as a hero and his own self-worth. Somehow the voice of Ms. Marvel had been the key to remind him who he was all along. (Has a little angst but I promise there's fluff involved). /One Shot/





	Crooked Smiles Fade

**Author's Note:**

> Just my take on what could've been going on with Sam after the whole Champions Weirdworld arc, directly after Issue 27. I felt like there might've been so much going on with and for him as a character and as a hero that I wanted to try fleshing out, although, obviously, this will be entirely AU because I'm writing it with the Sam x Kamala ship. Although not related to the "Don't Panic, No, Not Yet" AU, that I should really give a name to and which has Sam and Kamala as a secret couple. Still I imagine this would be before they could get together (in this fic-verse AU anyway) because of the whole "I'm glad you're my friend" pep talk and Sam not wanting to see what's behind the mask. What was it like for them to be separated, a dimension apart and have forgotten who they were? How did losing the Nova helmet really affect their relationship? What of that moment when Ms. Marvel cheered him up?
> 
> This is what fanfiction is for, as they say.
> 
> Title is from Fall Out Boy’s “The Kids Aren’t Alright” 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Marvel characters and the lyrics to Fall Out Boy’s song, or Fall Out Boy. I’m just a fan writing fanfiction.

Things weren’t entirely alright but he’ll be okay. He was a little sure of that part now. Probably. Well, he should, after the crazy—weird—events that just happened in an alternate dimension where he’d been anything but himself. Especially after he was reminded of what it had really meant to him to be a hero. To do anything heroic. The powers? Optional. It didn’t always mean that there _weren’t_ things still left to feel after all was said and done. He still wasn’t Nova anymore and, the thought occurred to him bitterly even as he smiled at his team mates, maybe never be again. Give him a break, he’s still just a teenager.

It’s not as simple as saying “I get it now. I’ll cool it. Thanks for the Snickers bar.” When you’d once been that kid with the ability to literally reach for the stars, it really sucked to be leveled back down to nothing, left to watch and worry at the sidelines as your teammates go into battle. Really, maybe that was why he’d been impulsive when he jumped and attacked the mysterious man-thing in an attempt to be of use. Maybe that was what his alternate universe-self, that Nova Knight, fed on—his feeling of worthlessness. That was what he could remember before his friends found him. He wanted to be of use, he wanted to prove he could still be something even when he had no memories, and he, without a doubt, still wanted to have some kind of power. It was unsettling to think back to now. He may not have remembered the moment he was stripped away of his Nova helmet in his real life as Sam Alexander, but somehow he craved for it even in this other world. Suddenly he was there living a literal fantasy where he was unbeatable, a warrior decked in full body armor and a crystalized sword; the energy he could wield at will being all too familiar. The energy came from his body in that world. Could that mean anything in this world or is it really just his previous affiliation with the helmet? The fact that he was practically brainwashed by the Master, by Eshu, a duration of which almost felt long enough to be a lifetime with his lack of previous memories at the time, was yet another topic to chew on.

He had memories of training, duels and battles. Duels and battles he’d won without breaking so much as a sweat by the time the Champions found him and Wasp. He was the puppet of this psudo-father. He was used and the worst of it was he was pretty sure that version of him was more than eager to have that lack of a father figure filled in by this villain. Because apart from power he knew that was something he longed for too. How many people actually died in their pursuit of “glory”? Kingdoms and many lands, he knew. It was like straight out of a fairytale or some adventure film…or video game but with the nagging, uncomfortable feeling that the “enemies” you’ve slain could have actually had lives. It wasn’t enough to be told “Don’t you worry about them, Kid.” Because he _felt_ it was real. If it wasn’t for Ironheart, for his friends, and that memory…

He didn’t know what else he could’ve done. Who else who would’ve become. He barely even remembered his mom and Kaelynn apart from an emptiness in knowing there could’ve been a family he’d lost and wasn’t sure of. Wasp was his sister there in that world but the idea of having a sister was all too familiar. The idea of a father…too close to home, too important, but he couldn’t have woken up sooner. And it was too easy to remember that voice when Ironheart tried to reason with him, because before everything, before that battle, it was that voice and that lingering feeling of a memory that held him back. _Her_ voice saying “I’m so glad we’re friends.”

Of course, he kept his smile intact, because he really was glad it was all over and happy to be home with his sister yanking at his arm and his mother fussing over him and beckoning his friends to come inside the house for snacks. He would find himself glancing at Ms. Marvel now and then as they were clustered around the simple kitchen, but she didn’t meet his gaze. It had almost seemed like she was the first to run and hug him when he – literally – broke out of his armor and they’d all regained their memories, but he was soon tackled into a group hug with everyone contributing to squeezing him that it was hard to tell. 

As Nova Knight he would have the sound of the voice lingering at the back of his mind like a conscience, he really did think it was his conscience, as he trained. Almost every time he’d have a quiet moment alone, holding up his green crystallized sword and seeing his reflection, he would remember. Somewhere, somehow, maybe long ago, he was never sure, someone had spoken to him and comforted him. It was in the sureness of that voice, the kindness that believed in him that pushed him forward into getting better. You can prove yourself. You need this power. You need power otherwise you couldn’t get to them, to that voice. He needed to be brave even when he had no memories and nothing made sense. Brave even when the stakes were high and all he had was potential. Oddly enough it worked and he usually succeeded in whatever challenge he was faced with, but he never got as close to good enough. Not when Eshu claimed him important, not when all enemies were defeated. It was just…missing.

Until he saw them. Until he saw her after the sound of a shrieking giant bird and she was riding on top of it – but really he was seeing everyone at once and had had to focus on the task at hand. Fighting was what made sense until Ironheart called his name “Sam” and that bought back the first real, solid, memory. It was a memory he didn’t like remembering. Being Sam. Just Sam.

“Sam! Sam!” Kaelynn said. “I’m still gonna’ be an astronaut though, okay? So I can help you when you need it!”

The other champions weren’t doing very well with suppressing their “awws” between bites of sandwiches and gulps of juice. It was almost a funny thing to see them all gathered in full costume around the kitchen because they wanted to linger a little longer. They, especially Ms. Marvel, wanted to talk to Sam’s mom about what happened because they owed it to her and, really, because they were all tired and hungry and could use a little normalcy. He was glad for it, maybe because afterwards he wasn’t sure when he would get to hang out with all of them again because, well, he may really have to take a break for a while. He’d been M.I.A. from school again and no doubt his mom would insist that he’s still just a kid and, Dios Mio, Samuel Alejandro, you are supposed to be resting! He wasn’t even sure how he could keep coming along to Champions missions and what he would do when he gets there. He’d just be in the way. So, really, it felt like it was going to be good bye for a while. Good bye and a lot of time to think about things alone.

“I’m gonna’ go up to my room for a while,” Sam said quite suddenly as Amadeus reminded the others how it felt to be an Orc and the others were laughing. “To check if Kaelynn messed up my room and took my Thor posters or something.” He added, scrunching his face at his little sister playfully and she stuck her tongue out in response. “I’ll be right back.”

It was weird that being in his room after what must’ve been a while didn’t really seem like it’s been, well, a while. It was like he’d been gone only yesterday, got his memories wiped, and then remembered and now he was back. The in-betweens he could remember but the time didn’t seem to matter. That was quite the experience, losing and regaining and losing things. If it also meant he could regain his Nova helmet again someday it would’ve been a nice consolation. His dad’s Nova helmet. It wasn’t just cool. It was his dad’s. Add that to the list.

Sam groaned and slumped into his bed, because his bed was just his size, smelled familiar, and was modern and un-weird-worldly. Also because he was frustrated and there was no other sound he could make that would signify his complaint. The universe, again, played a joke he didn’t get. He stared up at the ceiling with his fingers mid-running through his hair, legs dangling at the edge, still-shoed feet still touching the floor. At one point when he was younger he and his dad had taped glow in the dark stickers on the ceiling so he could pretend he was in outer space like in the stories. Somewhere down the road when he became a teenager and stopped believing in the Nova stories he must’ve taken them down, after much prodding from his mother that he clean his room and possibly a moment in which he’d been disappointed at his father. He could still see the space where they once had been, untouched by the dust in the ceiling.

He rolled over, sat up and picked up a picture of him, his dad and Kaelynn sitting on his desk which hadn’t been there before. Maybe Kaelynn had been in his room after all. Did she still think he was a hero? What would his father think? Had he really been a hero all this time or was he just playing around with his powers and helmet? It wasn’t about those things, Ironheart had said. Whoever it was that made the hero in Nova was who he was as Sam Alexander.

“That’s one way to summarize,” he muttered to himself. “Still feel like a loser, though.”

He was here because of who he was? What was it that Ms. Marvel said to him that day apart from being glad they were friends? He was glad too, he was sure of it, to have a friend like her to remind him that somehow in some way his presence even mattered at all to the Champions. It was who he was all this time and he was brave, was it?

It took him a while to realize someone was standing behind him by the doorway. She was standing there as if the question in his thoughts summoned her to reaffirm against his doubts or simply because, like last time, she wanted to check on him.

“I…wanted to see how you were doing,” she said, her voice was funny in a way because it almost didn’t sound like her at all, uncertain. It took him a while to realize she was about to cry and that the corners of her eyes were already halfway there. Another split-second to sink in that she wasn’t wearing a mask at all.

He didn’t know what to do.

She was holding her mask in one hand, eyes focused on it as she blinked, sniffed, and rubbed at her eyes with the other. He had the instinct to turn to his side and look away because maybe it slipped her mind that he could see and tried to forget what he saw. It was hard because the look on her face—her face—was already tattooed in his mind when he closed his eyes in an attempt not to keep on seeing.

“Your er…your mask is…you forgot to, er…” Sam gestured at his own face with his eyes shut tight. The memory of that talk they had that almost seemed long ago, longer even than the duration of a lack of memories he’d had in the weird world, came rushing back.

“I told you you didn’t have to. Still feeling very loser-y right now. I didn’t see anything, don’t worry,” He lied.

“This is me wanting to tell you down the road,” she said, walking in but, feeling a little uninvited as Sam trained his eyes to the ceiling again, didn’t sit down and just leaned on a side table. “I really do trust you,” she said it with so much conviction despite the sniff in between a few words.

“Why are you crying?”

There was a shudder in her crying that made it real and too hard for him to look away so he turned to face her.

“Ms. Marvel, what’s wrong?” he said, slowly, although he felt oddly like he had something to do with it and that he did something that reminded him of how she called him a jerk in one of their first few encounters. Did he as Nova Knight accidentally hit her as Mystic Marvel during the battle? Was there something that he and Eshu did that caused her distress during their stay in that world? The mere thought or lack of an idea almost made him sick. But she was smiling.

“You know, when we lost you I was the one who called your mom to let her know that we weren’t giving up looking for you. She was so sure we were going to find you.” She huffed a little laugh. “Even said you were a troublemaker so she was used to it.”

“Erm, thanks.” He trained his eyes on his shoes. Maybe she just needed to cry and he would let her take all the time she needed and he wouldn’t look. “You guys really did find me. I owe you a lot.”

She scoffed. “That’s what friends do.”

“I know.”

“I’m crying because I have so much feels right now.”

“Okay.”

There was an almost too awkward moment of silence where she kept sniffing and just leaning there while he stared at the floor. It was weird to think that crying made someone seem stronger than anything a fight could ever do, but at the time he was sure that she was one of the strongest people he’d ever been given the opportunity to get to know.

“Can I sit down?”

“Sure.”

She sat next to him.

“I wish I had a handkerchief or something to give to you. I feel kind of lousy just sitting, doing nothing,” he said, pulling a pillow from the corner of his bed and handing it to her. “Here.”

She snorted and just hugged the pillow, resting her chin even that he didn’t have the heart to tell her he suspected he drooled in his sleep sometimes. He still didn’t get why she was crying.

“I was afraid,” she said, finally, holding up her mask with both hands that he thought she was about to put it back on, but she didn’t. “That you guys would be out there in who knows where and, yes, tbh, you were helmet-less, Sam. I worried about that a lot.”

“Heh.”

“It’s funny,” she continued, “that I also had the thought that I would be looking like crazy for you and you wouldn’t even know who was looking.”

He remembered her voice before the battles. The first pep talk, almost exactly like this one, where all she had to do to save him was believe in him, that they could fix this whatever-this-is problem. Ms. Marvel had a way of reminding people that she was trying her best to be a hero and that she was, and a damn good one at that. Who knew she could actually remind him of the self he was that wanted to be a hero too, the real Sam who wanted to be there because he was given the opportunity to be a part of something bigger. The real Sam who made it easy to be someone’s friend because friendship was something he knew, as his father’s stories once taught him, a Nova needed in order to trust in his teammates. And most of all, the memory of his father’s words: “You’re a good kid, Sam.”

“I would’ve known it was you. I’d be sure you wouldn’t give up.” Sam allowed himself to look at her a little. “I’d do the same.”

Is it weird that they were sitting too close? On top of all the weird things he’d encountered for the past few days? Among the things that made him Sam Alexander, former Nova, member of the Champions, that he was sure of, at least, was how he felt about the people he worked with. Or, rather, the people he belonged with. She was doing that thing in the first pep talk again, wanting to make him feel that he belonged and that she trusted him.

“Sam, my real name is—“

“Don’t.” It was a whisper of a small plead this time, he was a little unsure whether she even heard it or whether it made sense to him what he was asking her not to say. More unsure how it happened. More unsure if it was happening at all. But there was hugging again, like always, and…not a hug. Definitely not a hug. For a moment, because it was just a moment, or a split second, it was almost as if nothing else mattered. Or maybe they mattered a great deal more because somehow, no matter how distant a hope seems to be, things do get fixed and get found. The kiss was just a moment, almost like the gentlest high-five, but Sam dramatized the time pause in his head and thought that the “gentlest high-five” metaphor was the stupidest thing he could ever think of at that particular instant. They were both left flustered and blushing in the next moment, so Ms. Marvel made up for it by hugging him so suddenly enough to choke the air out of him.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” She shook his shoulders as if to keep him from saying anything awkward in response to her kissing him. “I’m so so glad you’re okay!”

“Th-thanks?” He squeaked.

Then she stopped and kept the hug. “I really am. I missed you.”

“Actually, now that I think about it I can’t say the same because I did lose my memories and all the while I was undergoing intense knight training.”

“Being-a-total-jerk training.” She let him go and stood up, but she was smiling.

“The armor and sword was pretty cool though.”

“It totes was. Plus being Mystic Marvel was awesome! I cry at the details of my costume and my powers got a reboot.” She was already standing by the doorway again. “You going back down?”

“Yeah,” he said, “and, Ms. Marvel? Thanks.”

“It’s Kamala.” It was probably intended to be a dramatic whisper the kind in which he wasn’t supposed to have heard but his stupid room was small enough for him to hear.

“You know I actually heard that, right?”

“Okay, let’s go down! You seem to be doing fine now and we really have to go eventually.”

“Right,” he said with a smile. “Oh, and hey! Your mask!”

It’s going to take a while for things to be alright, maybe even a while before he could will himself to go along with the Champions even just to hang back and give support. He’d have to figure something out eventually. The thing is, if he really wanted things to get fixed, he’s going to have to get out there sometime, whether it’s to find a way to earn his Nova helmet back again or to become something else entirely. There’s no way of knowing but so much time for whatever. Maybe it’s going to be alright.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyt folks! That’s it! This is really meant to be just a One Shot. Thank you for reading, be kind to one another and hope y’all find the hope and kindness in distant things!  
> TO GOD BE THE GLORY!


End file.
